Moss and Feather

Pools but reflect his shape and form,

And nothing of his lovely hues;

Could he but see his jewels' light,

Would this Kingfisher choose

To live alone with Weeping Willows,

Diving, and making toys of billows?

Her shadow shows this stone her frame,

But not her plumpness, round and simple;

Could she but see what moss she has,

To jewel every dimple-

Could this rich stone but see her face,

Would she lie idle in one place?

Were I a great magician now,

I'd bring this Bird and Stone together,

Lord, what a glorious pair they'd make,

To dance, in moss and feather-

Nine times in sunshine, keeping step,

And twenty when the moon is up!